


Skin Tight

by eyemeohmy



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut, robottomnik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23031457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: So yes, perhaps the doctor had Stone wrapped around his finger. Yet in a way, in many small ways, Stone had Robotnik around his.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Comments: 24
Kudos: 358





	Skin Tight

**Author's Note:**

> I am a simple woman, I enjoy using [song titles as titles for my fics](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MK7mQfSYOc), especially if the cover is of a clenched but clothed ass.
> 
> Dedicated to Java.
> 
> Bit tired editing this, so please forgive any errors you may come across, gracias.

Agent Stone knew what the other agents said about him behind his back. Half the reason being they also said it directly to his face.

They called Stone "an overpaid, glorified nanny and whipping boy" for Robotnik. Why put someone so brainless, so clueless, and so absolutely bias in charge of aiding and monitoring the loopy, batshit insane doctor? He was a sick puppy in love, feeding out of Robotnik's palm. Can't properly regulate and keep the megalomaniac in line if Stone was such a colossal pushover. Hell, even Robotnik treated him like disposable garbage, a bureaucratic thorn closer to his ass than in his side. 

So what was the point?

It was fine. Agent Stone didn't mind at all. He had proven himself to the higher-ups; he'd worked and clawed his way to the top. He was here for a reason. The rest of the US government could sneer and look down at Robotnik's genius, but they were jealous, and they were scared. 

Stone's fear of the doctor was more respect and reverence. The possibilities of what Robotnik could do did not frighten Stone--they excited and awed him.

As much as the other agents wanted to claim he'd been tossed into this mission as Robotnik's sidekick because he was otherwise useless elsewhere, there was no denying no one else could take up such a tremendously volatile job, and so far survive the longest out of all the others who came before him, chewed up and spit out by the doctor. So they hated him, and they envied him, and maybe Stone even made them a little uncomfortable with just how dedicated he was to Robotnik and his extreme, radical ideas. 

That, too, was fine.

Granted, yes, at times this job felt more like a babysitting gig. And yes, Robotnik could be cruel and brutish, throwing temper tantrums like a spoiled brat, but Stone knew he had carved a spot into the good doctor's seemingly cold mechanical heart. Robotnik could deny it all he wanted, but still Stone knew--he wasn't nearly as "dumb as rocks" as his colleagues believed.

Doctor Robotnik was everything but subtle. Loud, domineering, a tornado of a man who demanded the attention of everyone he came across.

Stone was more about the little things.

Like the way Robotnik was riding his cock with intense enthusiasm, panting, face red, hair disheveled and hanging in his face, hands fisting the dark hairs on Stone's chest.

No, that-- no, Robotnik slamming down on his cock, ass taking him whole, didn't count as "little things". It was the parts of the whole rather.

Stone gripped Robotnik's hips, helped him along. When he first met the good doctor, he'd been a little underweight. Something noticeable since he was already gangly and lanky as a gibbon ape. But as Stone massaged his fingers and thumbs into the warm flesh, blossoming red and soon to be blue with bruises, he recalled that first month ticking Robotnik off by constantly dropping in with meals and snacks at "inopportune" times.

Robotnik ate enough for his brain to run at maximum, full capacity, but Stone knew he could afford to eat just a tad more. Robotnik had turned him down in the beginning, of course; sometimes angrily throwing the dishes off his desk, sometimes idly knocking them over like a bored cat. But little by little, he came around, enough for Stone to pick up his likes and dislikes, his tastes and what he despised and spit on the floor a half-second once it entered his mouth.

Robotnik didn't eat many homemade meals. Easier to buy fast food. Nothing too greasy, but sufficient brain food. Of the dishes Stone brought him, he preferred the agent's cooking--though he would never compliment him, Stone didn't need any verbal validation (although it'd be nice.) At least Robotnik's meals were better balanced, and he gained a couple pounds he definitely needed.

Stone was temporarily drawn out of his daze by a particularly loud moan from the doctor. Robotnik gasped as he leaned forward, shaky hands braced against the bed outside Stone's shoulders. Sweat fell from his forehead, the damp bangs, into his fluttering closed eyelashes.

Stone had introduced Robotnik to the ancient technology of a straight razor. "There's just something about it," Stone said, failing to explain just why Robotnik should try using a razor instead of his usual electric ones. The reason, of course, was it being sensual, and if the doctor allowed it, very intimate. Stone hoped with fingers crossed Robotnik, when he agreed to using the razor because he was bored, needed a shave, and was waiting on a mundane systems' scan to finish, had never used one before. Unlike Stone, who'd done so on himself many-a times.

Indeed, Robotnik hadn't used a straight razor before. Stone had to step aside, excusing himself. He turned around, forcing down a squeal as he chewed his knuckle with glee. Robotnik glowered at his back with a cocked eyebrow.

It'd been a dream come true. Lathering the doctor's face with shaving foam with such deep care. Leaning close, so close they were almost face to face, as he swept and ran the blade along Robotnik's face. He could feel his breath on his cheek. Stone started sweating, licking his dry lips. His heart raced as he wiped the doctor's face clean, then spent a little too long massaging soothing oils into the smooth, warm skin.

Five out of six cases, the doctor ordered Stone to shave his face with the straight razor.

There was stubble on Robotnik's chin now. A shadow. Stone reached up, cupping the doctor's cheek. Robotnik would have normally jerked away and yelled at the agent for the tender touch, but in the throes of sex, he was practically nuzzling into it, guiding one of the fingers between his lips to nip and suck.

Stone sighed. He wanted to kiss the doctor, but they were still working on that. Sex felt a little less personal, less... commitment-y than kissing. Stone bet his lips tasted like the berry power shake he made for his boss an hour earlier. One of his favorite meals, and Stone always beamed with pride when the two went out and Robotnik was casually and comfortably nursing one of his shakes. Especially when they were interacting with other people-- _lesser, lower_ people. Stone would look at aforementioned people like a kid with a gold star among a sea of silver and bronze.

Yes, the fruit and spoonfuls of sugar made the shake tasty, but it was the love Stone poured in it that made them _delicious_.

Stone affectionately brushed loose hair from Robotnik's face. Naturally, as he helped to shave the doctor's face, it wasn't uncommon for the agent to occasionally trim and style his hair every now and then, too. 

Last month, Robotnik was complaining about Homeland Security's lack of interest in his recent "slightly unethical" household surveillance drone proposal as he sat in his chair, Stone shaving the nape of his neck. Robotnik, as usual, was gesticulating wildly, spitting fire, twitching and jerking, but Stone had long since adjusted and learned when to move, when to stop, when to slow down, to avoid cutting his boss's scalp or shaving off a stripe of hair.

Stone pulled Robotnik closer. Among the sweat, he could smell faint cologne, aftershave, a hint of hair product. All of which Stone had directly or indirectly picked out for the doctor. Each scent had to match Robotnik's personality, his presentation. Sharp, clean, simple but effective. Although he was surprised Robotnik was so accepting of his suggestions--the man practically came out of the womb argumentative, stubborn, and above all else, private. Closing himself off from the rest of the world, being enigmatic and unreadable; it made him more powerful, unsuspecting and unpredictable.

Stone had gotten under all that armor through teeny tiny cracks. Like little weeds in a garden. All very simple, and now they were in bed, fucking each others brains out.

Stone dragged his hands up Robotnik's back, pulling him closer. Pushing down on the heels of his palms and kneading; Robotnik's muscles jumped beneath his touch, and the doctor groaned, momentarily slowing his joy ride to arch up into those massaging hands. It was more instinctive now, a mechanical response. Robotnik had no problem invading the personal space of others, so long as he was the one dominating the situation. It required a bit of work and time before he finally took up Stone's offers for even a simple and quick shoulder massage.

As with all the previous accomplishments and firsts, Robotnik immediately came to enjoy it. Demanding more, until those shoulder massages also became head, back, and hand massages. Robotnik seemed to like the last two the most; bent over his console all day, hands always at work and kept busy. Even the great Doctor Robotnik got a kink in the neck and sore in the wrists once in a while.

Stone's hands stopped around Robotnik's waist. The doctor's breathing was hitching, his noises a little higher pitched than the normal baritone growls and snarls. Speed picking up, pulse skipping a beat. Stone knew Robotnik was on the edge--and just like the many times before to tip him over, Stone dug his fingers into his boss's thighs, held him firm, and gave three, damn near violent thrusts, Robotnik punctuating each with a whimper before he finally came, spilling all over the agent beneath him.

Stone stopped moving, cradling Robotnik against him; his body rose and fell in heavy gasps of air, shuddering. His breath hot and moist against his shoulder as the edge of his mustache tickled Stone's neck. Just a minute and then Stone could continue, to finish himself off; the first few times they had sex and Robotnik came first, he simply climbed off and told Stone to "finish the job".

Now... Well, now was a lot better, obviously. Now Stone could embrace Robotnik as he continued thrusting; slow, at first, so as not to hurt. He'd be as gentle as possible, even if it forced him to drag things out. Robotnik wasn't in the mood to order him to get it done and over with, stop before things got too overstimulating; he could handle it tonight, and so Stone could take his time.

A great honor. Stone came with a big, bright smile on his face, sighing as he held himself inside the doctor. Just a few seconds, but it was all he needed. The perfect happy ending to a fairytale fuck--well, for Stone, at least. Robotnik wasn't complaining, however.

If only they could enjoy the afterglow for at least a few minutes. If only Stone could join Robotnik in the shower instead of waiting his turn. 

But Stone was more than happy to take things slow.

So yes, perhaps the doctor had Stone wrapped around his finger. Yet in a way, in many small ways, Stone had Robotnik around his. Matching bands, kind of like wedding rings. Stone laughed to himself at the thought. Married to the smartest, most powerful, most beautiful man Stone had ever met.

Now wouldn't that be something.


End file.
